


Simple

by skysedge



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied Feelings, Introspection, Light Angst, Soul-Searching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysedge/pseuds/skysedge
Summary: I am what I am. (But who am I?)





	Simple

**Author's Note:**

> Set after <s>sharknado</s>The Maydays

Sariel sits in the crow's nest of an airship as it soars high above the clouds and away from the Auguste Isles. He's leaning against the mast and holding his knees to his chest, eyes fixed on the sky.  
  
It's raining again today. There's still no rainbow, but that's okay. His hair is getting wet and tangled and his back aches but that's okay too. Sariel is content to sit and watch the rain fall against the grey sky, searching for patterns or shapes. Sometimes he thinks he spots one but then the wind blows and the order scatters into chaos again, a flurry of shimmering raindrops freewheeling in the sky. He wonders if they like flying around like that. He wonders if they feel anything at all, and if they would even be able to tell him if they did.  
  
Below, a little girl is splashing in a forming puddle on the deck while her parents urge her to go inside like the other passengers. She's not shy about voicing her enjoyment and her giggling is loud even all the way up here. Children are simple. That's what he's been told. People say he's simple too, always with a strange smile, like it's a bad thing. He's not sure how it makes him feel, or how he would explain it to someone even if he knew.  
  
A particularly strong gust of wind blows his hair into his face and he fails to react for a moment, distracted by the sounds of the child playing below. When he does remember to brush the hair away from where it has now stuck to his cheek, he also remembers that there's something else he had been thinking about before the rain had distracted him, and then the girl after that, and _then_...  
  
It takes a concerted effort for him to stop his thoughts from wandering again. He closes his eyes and before the colours dancing on the back of his eyelids can steer him off course, he remembers. He had been thinking about the supreme primarch, about the beach and the animals there, about the people he had interacted with. They were concerned with his journey but they hadn't stopped him, not like he had thought Uriel would.  
  
They're good people. He's not sure of many things but he feels that like a solid, comforting weight on his chest. Even if they are to blame for his journey now, even though at first he had seen them as an obstacle, they're good. That's just what they are and what they are has no bearing on what they have done or what he will do in the future. If they are ever again set against him, if he's asked to fight them, then he will without hesitation. Being good or bad has nothing to do with it.  
  
He's not sure what he is. He doesn't really mind. Whether chasing the rainbow in search of answers makes him bad or not has never crossed his mind before now. Just as they have to do the 'right' thing, he has to find his answers. It doesn't matter how long it takes or which road leads him there so long as he reaches his destination.  
  
When he opens his eyes again there's still no rainbow. Not that it matters. His rainbow has nothing to do with rain.  
  
He can feel his attention wavering again as he watches the rainfall and is vaguely wondering whether a strong enough wind could make rain fall upwards when he hears a sudden scream from down below.  
  
"Run for cover!"  
  
Dragging his eyes away from the rain and peering downwards, Sariel realises that it's not the weather making the passengers scream. The child is standing in a puddle. A few feet away, a wyvern snarls and takes a step towards her. Sariel doesn't think before acting; he doesn't jump so much as fall from the crow's nest, twisting gracefully in the air to land in a crouch between child and beast.  
  
No, he corrects as he draws himself up to his full height. He stands between two children. The wyvern is a juvenile. It's legs are just a little too long for its body and when it takes another step the movement is ungainly and awkward. It's claws splash in the puddles just as the little girl's boots had.  
  
"Are you a good person?" he asks the creature but his voice lost on the wind.  
  
He feels a tug on his leg and glances down to see the little girl trying to hide behind him. She's not laughing anymore but he remembers the sound. It would be nice to hear it again. Placing a hand on her head, he holds his other one out towards the wyvern.  
  
"Please leave," he asks it calmly. "There's no need for anyone to die."  
  
It doesn't respond. Of course. It doesn't use the same words that he does. He smiles kindly and reaches into his pocket, sifting through the assorted items there. An iridescent stone from the beach. The discarded shell of a snail bleached white by the sun. A small glass bottle he had found floating in a rock pool. He wraps his fingers around this one tightly.  
  
"I hope you find food somewhere else," he says softly. "But you can't have anyone on this ship. I'm sorry."  
  
The wyvern hesitates and he uses this moment to throw the bottle at the ground in front of it. The glass shatters, tiny shards sparkling and for a moment they're indistinguishable from the raindrops. Spooked by the noise, the wyvern springs into the air and flaps it's wings with the clumsiness of a child before turning and catching an updraft of wind that carries it away.  
  
"Thank you," Sariel says. "Goodbye."  
  
"Bye-bye!"  
  
The little girl steps out from behind his legs and reaches a hand skywards, waving with a warm smile on her face. She looks up at him and her eyes are as bright as the sheen on the stone in his pocket.  
  
"Are you..."  
  
Before he can finish the thought, they're surrounded by people. The girl's parents, the deckhands, the pilot. They're all looking at him strangely, eyes wide, and for a moment he's worried he's done the wrong thing. Then there are hands clapping him on the shoulder and everyone is speaking at once, calling him _brave_ and _kind_ and _selfless_. He smiles uncertainly back at the gathered crowd, not sure why they seem so excited. He had just done what had needed to he done, nothing special or deserving of praise.  
  
Perhaps if he could surpass his limitations he would be able to understand. If he hadn't been created to have his intelligence capped then maybe he wouldn't need to be searching for the rainbow either. Perhaps he would already know why he has been kept alive, why the adjutant had given his time freely, why his chest feels strange when he thinks about it.  
  
Without realising he has spaced out completely. When he comes to he's standing alone near the prow of the ship, soaked to the skin from the rain. He should have found a coat, he realises. If only he wasn't so simple.  
  
"You're good."  
  
The small voice from the region of his knees pulls him out of thinking. A small hand is pushed into his own as the little girl beams up at him, uncaring of how cold she must be from the rain or the peril she had been in moments before.  
  
"Thank you, mister," she says and he doesn't understand the warmth blooming through him from the inside. "I hope mister dragon is okay."  
  
He pauses a moment, forcing through the slowness of his thoughts, and then carefully smiles back at her. He gives her hand a delicate squeeze.  
  
"Me too," he says.  
  
Children are simple, but it doesn't mean they're stupid. It should be the same for him. He hopes that he remembers this when he reaches the end of his journey, so that he can explain it to the person he thinks of most. He hopes that he'll be understood when that time comes.  
  
For now, he sits at the prow of the airship with a small girl at his side, both of them looking for rainbows.

**Author's Note:**

> A trail of ants got me into debt. Now I shell peanuts and carry people's things.
> 
> Also I'm on Twitter @_zenbee


End file.
